


Two Places at Once

by KittyViolet



Series: Kitty told me to name this series [16]
Category: New Mutants (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Outdoor Sex, Service Top, Sex Education, Sex Toys, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyViolet/pseuds/KittyViolet
Summary: Dani wants to help Rahne love herself. But she might need help. Mechanical help.





	Two Places at Once

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after New Mutants (first series) 45, and before New Mutants 46.

TWO NIGHTS AGO

Yesterday, long after dinnertime, Illyana had taken her run, maintaining her usual fast clip across the front lawn, the Blackbird launchpad hidden by Astroturf, the maples and beeches and various decidous trees, into the thicker forest, when she heard a brief squeal and a human voice. An alto. Not in pain. Not something she’d need to investigate, then, except that the voice was coming from right beside her, where—as she turned to one side—she could see two legs, one stretched over the other, one very tan, and one pale, with thick red hair, or fur.

“Och,” Rahne said, sitting fully upright, almost scratching her hair on a low branch. “Illyana! I didnae expect—“

“She’ll understand,” said a lower, more confident voice, still a girl’s, from behind Rahne. Two black pigtails, a shoulder, a headband, and then Dani’s face. “Illyana—“

“Itsnotwrongitsnotwrongitsnotwrongitsnotthesamething—“ Rahne Sinclair begins. There’s a flash of thigh before she shifts position and turns away.

“Of course it’s not wrong,” Illyana says. Do adults have these kinds of conversations too, or are they reserved for teens, who are supposed to be still learning, supposed to make mistakes, supposed to be unsure of themselves? (Of ourselves, Illyana corrects herself. Except that she’s… she’s different.) “As long as you both want to be here and you’re both having fun, whatever you do, it’s not wrong.”

Rahne blushes anyway. Dani rescues her. “We’re… I’m helping Rahne learn some things about how her body works. I…. We…”

Illyana grins. “It’s important to learn how your body works, and you’re really lovely together and I’m sorry I interrupted you. I can pretend I never—oh.”

Rahne stands up, having shifted just now into half-wolf form, perhaps to disguise her continuing lack of clothes. Dani stands up—her brass-colored shift-dress falls over her standing form—and then bends down to pick up Rahne’s tunic and pants. “We’ll see you back at the mansion tonight, OK?”

Then Rahne goes full wolf, turns tail, and lopes away.

Illyana says nothing. Dani is concentrating on the psychic connection she has with her younger wolf-friend in her wolf form.

Then Dani relaxes. She must have learned that Rahne felt OK, or at least that the shame was receding. “Thank you,” Dani says, “for what you said when you found us, and how you were able to leave us alone. She’s so easily…”

Ilya can fill in the blanks. She knows something about conditioning, something about needing friends, a lot about being told that your body is evil—though Magik was encouraged to embrace her power, to do evil, and had to learn what it meant to embrace a friend, to use her power for good. Rahne was told to suppress everything, to condemn everything about herself that felt good, that felt like her. She’d need good friends to get over that. Possibly friends who could take their clothes off with her and tumble in the woods.

“She’s only able to do anything about her own body, her own joy,” Dani says, “when we’re in the forest. Something about the woods lets her relax, even when she’s in totally human form. It’s like being alive in two places at once.”

Illyana nods. “Do you”—she doesn’t want to get the American joke wrong—“do you come often here, then?”

Dani slows down even further, deciding, even as she speaks, what Illyana should know. “We’ve been…. learning things together for a week now. First we were just kissing, and touching over our clothes, and now we’re ready to touch in other places, to take clothes off, but Illyana—“ Dani takes her teammate’s hand—“I’ve read some of your books, I’m at peace with my feelings, I know I feel right together with her, but I don’t—I think—I think if it’s our first time we may want some help.”

There is absolutely no way the Scottish mutant wants her first time to be a threesome with anyone, let alone with Illyana; what’s Dani asking for, since that’s not it? And then Illyana knows.

“I have something for you,” Illyana tells Dani. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen at 10pm. Don’t be late.” Illyana’s horns are showing, if only slightly, because the request feels naughty, not to Illyana, but to Dani, whose powers can sometimes spread, and sometimes share, both desire and fear.

Back in their upstairs room, Kitty’s on her bed rewiring something—no, holding a circuit board in one hand, doing nothing with it, and flipping through Elfquest Volume 3 with the other. There’s something about Elfquest that Ilya never quite got, but the elves riding wolves—that one seems suddenly relevant. But Rahne, when she’s with Dani, isn’t a wolf: she’s absolutely a mutant girl. That one seems important. 

Almost as important as the way that Kitty’s words, and Kitty’s presence, and Kitty’s enthusiasm, and Kitty’s body, remind Illyana that Illyana’s a mutant with powers, not a demon with a mutant form; their bodies together show Illyana, powerfully, that she belongs here, that she’s welcome here, that when she’s with Kitty she’s home. She may rule Limbo, but this upstairs room—these twin beds pushed together, the sigil on the door, the stack of books on the floor, the curvy low ceiling with Lockheed’s nest—that’s her place too.

Can Dani and Dani’s body do that for Rahne? can the woods do that for Rahne?

Illyana hopes so. Illyana thinks she can help.

At 10:10pm she’s in sleepwear (long sweat pants and a low-cut satin top, surely found on a vintage rack) and strides into the kitchen with one finger to her lips, commanding Dani to mock secrecy, because she thinks that’s what Dani might expect, and also because others might be listening. She hands Dani a magenta box with a female symbol printed on the top.

“That’s exactly what we need,” Dani says, without opening the box. Then Illyana makes them both tea.

“Do you think we should have a sex education class?” Dani says. “Or, you know, a health class?”

“Who would teach it?” Magik asks. The Xavier School has enough credit-sharing and correspondences courses as it is. There are systems where older students educate younger ones; maybe that’s how, in America, at least for now, it has to be.

ONE NIGHT AGO

Dani waits for Rahne in their clearing. Rahne shows up, of course, in human form. She’s running her hands through her burred red hair, nervously. Dani knows how Rahne felt when she ran naked—and furry—with Catseye. And again in Asgard. And Dani was far too harsh on her, then.

Nobody should begrudge Rahne Sinclair that much fun, but the girl deserves to enjoy her being in this world when she’s in human form, with human language and human parts, too. She shouldn’t need to hang out with Hellions, or with the wolf-prince of some far-off realm, in order to enjoy life on this Earth.

Dani takes the Scottish girl’s strong, small hand and looks right in her eyes. Very slowly, she kisses her friend and then extends one hand to the buttons on her short fall coat, then to the buttons on Rahne’s cotton shirt, and then to her camisole, and then to the space between her small breasts, and then to her nipple, caressing the breast itself. She’s moving slowly, very slowly. That’s what Rahne wants. That’s what Rahne deserves.

And now she’s ready for, more. Dani moves her other hand, very slowly, between Rahne’s legs, and reaches for the magenta box she got from Illyana. “Oh,” Rahne says. “Och, yes, I want you there, it’s not the same as when it’s bad, I want you.” 

Rahne says more, then, very quietly. Dani opens the box with her dextrous hand and takes out a curved rubber toy with a handle and… a power cord. 

The mansion has outdoor electrical sockets for gardening equipment and for electric archery and fencing targets: can the cord reach? Dani’s good at judging distances (it comes with her archery practice). Nope. It can’t.

Dani puts the box aside for now. She’s not going to tell Rahne to wait in the woods while Dani runs all the way back to look for electrical equipment. Instead Dani moves her head of dark hair, her slim shoulders, slowly down the other New Mutant’s body, zipping open the fly on her parachute pants, then kissing her navel, her waist, her mons, moving close to her exposed outer labia. There’s a lot they can do with just Dani’s hands, and Dani’s lips, and Dani’s tongue, if Dani knows where to go. And after all coming or not coming isn’t the point. The point is to like your body the way the spirit you honor has made you. To be who you are.

It gets Dani off too. There’s nothing sexier, for her—for her as a leader, and as a friend—than this kind of initiation, this kind of service. Ribs and shoulders, arms inside arms, a continuously shifting hug that’s not sexual until it is, until the two friends let it be. Neither girl can quite touch the other exactly the way that the other wants to be touched—they’re both still learning, they’re both still new. Electrical help, Dani thinks, really is what they want.

There’s some unfamiliar spark in the kitchen window when the pair of girls return. Something black and gold, an inspiration; a reflection, maybe, from the night sky.

Illyana sees Dani, and then Wolfsbane, walking indoors, separately. There isn’t much that gets past the Russian spellcaster, these days. Of course. She forgot that they’d need an extension cord.

EARLIER TODAY

“Illyana?” Dani asks, putting down her club sandwich. “Do you happen to know where the senior team keeps the electrical equipment? I’ve got a… project for the New Mutants this weekend, and we’re going to need an extension cord.”

TONIGHT

Kitty is almost asleep when Ilya gets back to their room. She's lying on her back and over her belly, half-open, is a book called The Science of Star Trek, and another, thinner one, called Math and Science Tactics for Peer Tutors. “Katya?”  


“Mmmmmf? Roomie? Can it wait?”

“It could but it shouldn’t. Can you look in your Bin of All Tech and find an extension cord?”

“If you say so.” Kitty gathers her nightshirt—it’s slightly too short—around her thighs and stumbles towards her side of their pushed-together desks, reaching underneath. Both books fall off her body and off her bed. “Who needs one at this hour and why?”

The Russian girl smirks. “I’ll tell you once I can make the cord”—she pauses, unsure of the pun; that’s what it means to have fluency in a second language—“come where it needs to come.”

Illyana considers using a stepping disc and decides against it. Teleporting within the grounds through Limbo would be like taking the Blackbird when you want to go to town center,, plus the slight risk of ending up in 1975. So she casts a silent-walking concealment spell instead, plugs the extension cord into the outdoor outlet, and then traipses through the wet grass into the forest, trailing the long flat cord behind her, like Theseus in the labyrinth—no, more like Ariadne. Theseus ditched his girlfriend. F that guy. Maybe it's more like Baba Yaga's _volshebnij neet._

Five minutes into the woods, still protected by the spell of silence, and Illyana has found the couple’s place of assignation, their bed of leaves. 

And, also, the couple. They’re early. And they’re— apparently they have already found what they need? Rahne can’t see Illyana at all, but Illyana sees Rahne, and Dani… Dani ignores her; she’s focused on her best friend, on her friend’s curled-up, concentrating, delighted body, curled up around the vibrator in Dani’s hand, the extension cord running out between Dani’s legs and back far into the woods. They’re lost in each other. The red-haired girl’s near ecstasy. Her knees are trembling, her thighs moving closer together as Dani moves her wrist back and forth, quietly, between them. The extension cord blinks, blinks again, glows black and gold.

LATER TONIGHT

Doug is almost asleep. “You’re home!” he exclaims. "I thought you'd be out scanning the grounds all night."

“Selffriend took mission explore outdoors seriously: selffriend humangeographyclass plus security provision. But self missed selfsoulfriend heartcompanion in excess of minimum level to preclude allnightlonggoingaway.”

“Have returned onenight intending interface interaction inperson with just one selfsoulfriend.” The technarch refugee mutant pauses, gently. “SelffriendDani encountered on way in, requiring simple electronic assistance of kind with which selfsoulfriendDoug is familiar.” Warlock’s underlying lifeglow turns from golden, to bronze, to pink, to ruby red.

“Wait,” Douglas says. “I know that they call it the language of love, but I’m still not certain what—she must own—oh—you mean—“

“Selffriends in pair for intimatelearningteaching required pleasuredevice and that in turne required electricassistance, which self provided!” Warlock says, sounding proud. “Self befriended machinefriend of sexhaving selffriends!” Warlock pauses. "Query: is self good electricalengineeringteacher?"

"Yes," says Doug. "'Lock, you're the best. And-- I mean, sometimes you have to learn stuff from your friends." 

The technarch smiles faintly, opens one television-like eye wide, and extrudes a third arm that becomes another extension cord, coiling that cord-arm around Doug Ramsey like a garden hose returning to its spool. Doug resists, and then doesn’t, and smiles himself. The cord-arm-hose expands and extends down until it covers his thighs, his crotch, the his hips— it’s a whole garment now: Warlock has connected Warlock’s own humanoid body to an electronic bathing suit that Doug wears over his PJs, no, under his PJs, and then the bathing suit starts humming and buzzing, and Doug lies back on his pillow, and turns on his side, and speaks in a language that only Warlock understands.

EVEN LATER TONIGHT

“I’m done,” says Illyana, replacing the still-coiled, unused extension cord in Kitty’s under-desk bin. “I’m pretty much done for the day.”

“Me too, roomie,” Kitty says. “Is there a sigil on the door tonight?”

Magik says something happy in Russian. "Yes, there is a sigil on the door, and the triangle is very much turned on. Also your roommate is turned on. Also there’s a red-hair girl and a noble illusion-caster from the Rocky Mountains out there in the woods, and they’re—“

“Using our lightsaber?” Kitty says, mock-horrified. “You wouldn’t—“

“Dani asked,” Illyana says. “Rahne would never ask, but she’s ready to learn. If only people would talk about sex before they tried to have it—especially girls, I wish—“

“I wish too. But it took us a while!” Kitty exclaims, almost loud enough for somebody, anybody, outside to hear it. “I mean, I grew up thinking gadgets were funny and shameful and girls shouldn’t need them. And also thinking that girls ought to get with guys. And now look at us.”

“Don’t look,” Illyana says, “until I tell you to look.” Ever obedient—at least where Illyana is concerned—Kitty looks away.

“Did you really give them our lightsaber?” Kitty asks, eyes still closed, her back to her best friend. “I… I never thought—I mean, I’ll miss it.” If anyone can smirk modestly, then Kitty does.

“Close your eyes,” Ilya says, and then nothing happens to Kitty for like forever: she’s just on her bed, slowly sliding under the thin, sleek summer top sheet.

“Can I look now?” asks Kitty.

“You definitely cannot look.” And suddenly Ilya is on Kitty’s bed, robe off, tickling, grabbing her shoulder, lightly biting her elbow, kissing her parted lips, and her ears, and then there’s a buzz and there’s something at Kitty’s breastbone, at her midriff, at two or three places on her body at once, including, certainly, between her thighs, opening Kitty up, where she wants to open. Kitty is in two places at once, and she loves it. Her bed. Her lover’s arms. Inside her head. This new machine can take her there. The machine has two parts, two places to touch her at once, a round part and two half-hard parts that go inside, but she can't see, she can only feel-- she's leaking, gloriously and shamefully, open--

She’s gasping for pleasure, almost. She’s at the edge. She’s over the edge. She’s gripping Illyana’s left hand, hoping she doesn’t phase, while Illyana’s right hand and the new machine does what it does, Kitty’s eyes still closed, and her body, still solid, propelling itself halfway up through the atmosphere—that’s how it feels—and under the sea, like she’s in two places, no, in three, the wet small walls inside her are the walls of the world and they’re coming apart to let her Illyana in, let her all the way in—

When she opens her eyes, who knows how much time later, she’s looking right at Illyana above her, and she’s blissful, and then she’s confused.

“I thought you gave—cleaned up and gave Dani our lightsaber,” Kitty says to Illyana. “Where’d you get that?”

“Don’t worry,” Illyana says, hoping the reference is right. “I got us an Enterprise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I set this one at the latest possible date when all the principal players are still in the mansion, since the Mutant Massacre hits the New Mutants starting with 46. For Rahne and Catseye, see New Mutants (first series) 16-17; for Dani's later reaction to Rahne and Catseye together, see New Mutants (first series) 53. For Rahne and the Asgardian wolf-prince, see New Mutants Special Edition 1. For the sigil on Kitty and Illyana's door, see "Before We Kissed," earlier in this same series: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755375?view_adult=true For why both teens, and adults, might need to feel "at home" in order to make good, pleasure-giving sexual decisions, check out Emily Nagoski's terrific book Come As You Are, which applies both to real people and to fictional mutants: https://www.amazon.com/Come-You-Are-Surprising-Transform/dp/1476762090?


End file.
